Harry Potter and the Forbidden Army
by siriusllydepressed
Summary: A novel length fic, this story takes place during year six. Along with Harry's Voldemort problems, he finds himself in an onoff relationship and his two best friends in love. Please read and review! Chapters added often!
1. A Lonely Birthday

An intense crack of lightning bolted past Harry's window. The startling hit didn't faze him, however; the sixteen-year-old boy was unwrapping a package messily wrapped in brown paper. He tore at the twine, which was wound around the package like an anaconda surrounds its' prey. After he slipped off the string, he held the end of it and let the other end of it dangle, noticing the string was about five feet in length. He shook his head, dropped the twine, and tore off another layer of brown paper, only to find, to his dismay, yet another layer of paper underneath. This one, however, had a messy scrawl on top of it.  
  
Dear Harry,

Happy sixteenth birthday! You're really growing up nicely, there, I hope them Dursley's are treating you well. I wrapped you a bit of a present, sorry about all the paper, but really a terrible storm's brewing down here at the grounds, and I'd like to keep your gift in good condition. I can't believe you're sixteen. Seems like just yesterday I was delivering you to them Dursleys on Sirius's motorbike after... well you know. Well, I best be sending along this letter now. I'll see you soon! Bye!  
  
Hagrid  
  
Harry grinned and tried not to think about the mention of his parents' death and his defeat of Lord Voldemort when he was just a baby. He concentrated more on the rectangular present sitting on his lap right in front of him, just waiting to be opened. Frankly, he was surprised the gift was from Hagrid; normally Hagrid's presents were alive, moving, and monstrous. Nonetheless Harry carefully but quickly unfolded the paper.  
Harry's eyes widened as he overlooked the box in front of him. Inside were four enormous slabs of Honeydukes chocolate and two butterscotch, a large carton of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, a sack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, a package of Fizzing Wizzibees, and about a dozen Chocolate Frogs. This was the most candy he'd ever received, apart from a large load he'd bought on his first train ride to Hogwarts. He had to resist the growing temptation to stuff himself that very moment (Aunt Petunia had made a putrid stew for dinner, Harry had taken full advantage of his usual meager portion size). He quickly pushed the box under his bed and promised himself a chocolate frog the next night.  
His eyes roamed to the next gift, a tiny box wrapped in gold foil Harry presumably thought was from Hermoine. He picked up the tiny cube and in one swift movement pulled off the gold foil, revealing a maroon velvet box tightly clasped by a bronze latch. He opened the box from the latch's clutches, and found a familiar, tiny, golden ball springing around the interior of the box and realized, to his delight, that it was a golden snitch- his very own golden snitch! And, between the wings was an engraved monogram: Harry, it read, in spidery calligraphy. Harry amused himself for a moment or two by tossing the snitch in the air and catching it.  
After Harry finished playing, he turned his attention to a large, burlap sack stamped with large, blue letters: Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Harry fished open the sack and peered inside. It held three scrolls, and about a dozen large boxes of products of Fred and George's joke shop, including a bag of blue candies Harry remembered the twins using on his cousin, Dudley, two years ago. Harry unrolled the scrolls and read each one, the third particularly catching his interest.  
  
Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday, Harry! We can't say how much we owe you for your loan for our establishment. Business is booming! We are the best Wizarding Joke Shop in all of London! You wouldn't believe how many people stop in here daily- we caught Ludo Bagman trying to buy some fake wands in here last week. A pair of sunglasses and an oversized trench coat masked him, but one of our handy products caught him red-handed. He still refuses to pay us back after the World Cup...  
Anyway, the real reason we're writing- apart from the fact it's your birthday, of course! – is that we would like to induct you into our Wall of Honors because of your generous donation. Not only will you have one of our future products named after you, you also receive the royal honor of working with our dear brother Ronald in our shop, FREE OF CHARGE! This is a limited offer, so please respond immediately. Well, we must be going Harry, it's back to work! I hope you enjoy some of our presents. You're free to use them on that chubby muggle cousin of yours!  
  
Yours, Fred and George  
  
Harry-

Happy sixteenth mate! I can't wait to see you this summer. Mum's trying to get a hold of Dumbledore, making sure you can come back soon, maybe in a week. I've been working in Fred and George's shop, as I'm sure they've told you. Malfoy- the dirty rotten little scumbag- came in here a few days ago, with his little girlfriend Pansy Parkinson. The little bastard purposely made a mess of the place and, in the middle of the daytime shopping rush, with a boatload of people inside the store, made a point of telling everybody within earshot about what muggle lovers we were. Get this- I actually spotted him and Pansy KISSING behind a bookcase in Flourish and Blotts. As if anyone would want to kiss Malfoy. Pansy's gone mental, she has. But I suppose she always was.  
O.W.L. results should be here any day now. That means any day now an owl should be arriving and Hermoine will be going on about her phenomenal scores, about how they could have been better and about how tough next term will be.  
Better get your dress robes out again, mate. Apparently there's some big event honoring the Head Boy and Girl, and sixth and seventh years have to attend. Even worse is that it's like the Yule Ball- you have to ask A GIRL to it... I think I may fake sick that day.  
  
Happy Birthday Harry, and I'll send you an owl as soon as my mum gets word from Dumbledore!  
  
-Ron  
  
Dear Harry,  
I would like to take this opportunity to send my apologies. I am deeply sorry that I did not believe you and turned against you during the past year. I now see the error of my ways, and feel like a fool for not trusting you. I was so happy to have the position I had that I completely forgot about all loyalty to my family, to you, and to Dumbledore. Even worse were my efforts to help the Ministry discourage the very true fact that Voldemort had returned and that you were a liar. I see now you are nothing but a very brave, courageous, honest, clever boy under the prowl of prey from Lord Voldemort. I feel like a coward for refusing to believe Dumbledore about Lord Voldemort's return simply because I did not want to believe it. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me and we can rekindle ties.  
You will be happy to hear I have joined the Order with my parents. I wish to send my deepest regrets toward the death of your godfather. Regretfully, I never knew the innocence of Sirius Black until after his death, which saddens me, it would have been most pleasant to meet the godfather of the boy I know almost as my brother. I have also gotten word from Professor McGonagall that you wish to become an Auror. I think it would be quite a suitable position for you, and I support you one hundred percent.  
Other good news I would like to share with you is that there will be a vote in early fall for a new Minister of Magic. This voting practice was taken from the muggle system, and the candidates include Kingsley Shacklebolt, Ludo Bagman, Delores Umbridge, a man I don't believe you know, Christian Smites, and, of course, Cornelius Fudge. This is relatively new news, not scheduled to hit the prophet until tomorrow. I highly encourage you to vote, I believe sixteen is the legal voting age.  
This summer I am most pleased to announce that I have gotten engaged to Penelope Clearwater. You may remember her from your early years at Hogwarts; she was in Hufflepuff and we dated throughout our sixth and seventh years. She and I never really broke ties, even romantically, even though my family was completely oblivious to this. She now has joined the Order and works in Muggle Liaisons. She lives with her parents in a muggle flat in London. I invite you to our wedding, which we are planning to have over the Christmas Holidays. I would appreciate it if you do not mention anything to anyone, especially Ron; he briefly encountered her this summer, and they did not get along very well. No one knows except for Penny's parents and my parents.  
Harry, again, I extend my deepest regrets for not trusting you. I hope we can become as close as we once were and can put our previous dispute far behind us.  
  
Sincerely,

Percy Weasley  
  
Harry rolled up the scrolls and yawned. So much had gone on without him, he thought, as he reclined onto his bed. Fred and George's business was bustling, and even though he was partly responsible for financing their project, he had yet to even see the property. Percy was getting married, a new Minister of Magic was being elected, Malfoy was dating, O.W.L. results were coming, and to cap it all off, an event similar to the Yule Ball was coming. Harry thought of this last item and began to panic. Who would he ask this time to the ball? Parvati Patil wouldn't go with him after how he treated her at the Yule Ball, and she surely told Lavender Brown and her twin sister, Padma Patil. Cho Chang was dating Michael Corner now, Ginny Weasley was dating Dean Thomas, Hannah Abbott would surely go with Ernie MacMillan, Luna Lovegood... well he wasn't going with her, Marietta Edgecombe was out of the question, and Hermoine... well, Ron wouldn't be too happy if he took Hermoine. "If only I could ask Sirius," Harry said, thinking out loud, his voice barely audible over the raging storm outside. He coiled up at the thought of Sirius, and consumed himself with self-pity before finally drifting himself to sleep.  
  
Several hours later, Harry awoke from the scream of the tiny alarm clock on his nightstand. His hand fuddled around past his wand and over his glasses, before finally slapping the snooze button. After several minutes of heavenly rest, the alarm screamed again, and Harry groaned, switched it to off, and hurtled out of bed.  
Looking at his large feet, the only part of him that actually fit into Dudley's clothes, he trudged over to his wardrobe and yanked it open, deciding on what to wear for the day. Not that there was much choice.  
He looked at himself at the long mirror hanging on the inside of the wardrobe door. He wore a baggy, heather gray t-shirt with the entire roster of the Smelting's School for Boys Wrestling Team, and a pair of plaid boxer pants. Harry pulled off his shirt and looked at his skinny figure. He didn't have muscles, but he certainly didn't have fat.  
He dressed quickly and hurried downstairs, finding Aunt Petunia slicing a peach at the kitchen counter.  
"Here," she snapped, handing Harry half of the peach. As Harry took a seat at the kitchen table, he noticed a particularly grumpy Uncle Vernon frowning from behind the muggle newspaper. Dudley, on the other hand, was stuffing his peach into his mouth all at once, squeezing it to make it fit. Harry remembered all of his candy upstairs hidden away in his room and smiled to himself. For a little bit of birthday kindness, he plopped his peach onto Dudley's plate. Dudley acted as if it had been there the entire time.  
"God damn police force..." muttered Uncle Vernon. Harry knew it was the beginning of an early morning rant. "People disappearing like flies off the street and our police- which my tax dollars go to- can't even seem to find one of 'em! Four men gone today, yesterday two, the day before one. Who's next? Me? My son? My wife? Our police force can't track down any of them! Obviously they're being kidnapped by the same bastard... how hard is it to find seven people kidnapped by the same bloody person?" He slammed his fist on the table. "If I had things my way, the police force would be beat silly until they work hard enough to protect us! I'D BEAT 'EM SILLY!"  
His face had turned a dark shade of purple. He took a breath and glanced at his watch, a gold watch he wore every waking- and sleeping- moment of every single day. He made a particular point of taking significant glances at it whenever he was around someone important. "I'm off," he gruffed, his pigment beginning to turn red- the normal color of Uncle Vernon.  
After breakfast and the departure of Uncle Vernon, Harry found himself upstairs in his bedroom, reading the front page of the Daily Prophet.  
  
NEW VOTING SYSTEM TO BE USED TO DETERMINE NEW MINISTER OF MAGIC London- Yesterday it was decided that a new system of election would be added to the traditional ministry ways to decide who the new Minister of Magic will be. Traditionally, the old Minister would appoint a new Minister after he or she becomes incompetent to fulfill his or her duties any longer. However, after Cornelius Fudge's unruly decisions, an amendment was made and on October 17th the first ever democratic election will be held. The Wizengamot and Ministry decided it would be the fairest way and would modernize the Wizarding World. Candidates have been nominated; either by a Ministry official or by a petition. Those candidates include: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror, Ludo Bagman, Head of Department of Magical Games and Sports, Christian Smites, International Department of Wizards, Delores Umbridge, Former Hogwarts Headmistress, and, of course, Cornelius Fudge. The Daily Prophet is proud to report that it will be following the election right up to the 17th.  
  
Harry looked below the article and saw that it showed the five candidates, each one grinning and waving at him, except for Fudge, who was scowling. Harry wondered whom he would vote for; Percy said the voting age was sixteen. He certainly wouldn't be voting for Fudge or Umbridge. Ludo Bagman was a good man, but not exactly a suitable Minister of Magic. Christian Smites looked like a nice man in his mid-fifties, and Harry hoped to learn more about him. But he was pretty sure he would vote for Shacklebolt, he was in the Order and he was an Auror.  
Harry pulled Hagrid's present out from under his bed. After eating two chocolate frogs and a jelly slug, a large barn owl fluttered outside his window clutching a scroll. A nervous bubble crept up inside him as he realized it was his O.W.L. results. Slowly, he walked over to the window and opened it. The owl fluttered about, dropped the scroll into Harry's palm and was off. Harry's gripped tightened over the scroll as he took a deep breath and sat in his desk. Slowly he tore the red wax apart from the paper and unrolled the parchment.  
  
Dear Mr. Potter,  
We are pleased to announce the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Levels you sat last term. Each grade over a Poor is considered to be one OWL.  
  
Transfiguration- Exceeds Expectations Charms- Exceeds Expectations Potions- Acceptable Herbology- Acceptable Defense Against the Dark Arts- Outstanding Astronomy- Poor Divination- Poor Care of Magical Creatures- Exceeds Expectations History of Magic- Poor  
  
You achieved six OWLs and have qualified for the following Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test classes. You must qualify for one of these classes in order to sit that subject's NEWT test.  
  
Transfiguration Charms Herbology Defense Against the Dark Arts Care of Magical Creatures  
  
Sincerely,  
Madame Marchbanks  
  
Harry folded up the scroll and stuffed it into a desk drawer. He let out a groan. If only he had made NEWT Potions. His hopes of being an Auror had been flushed. McGonagall had told him last April that he would need an OWL in Potions to become an Auror, but he hadn't achieved it. What would he do? Who would he become? Fear and uncertainty bubbled up inside of him, and he remembered his fate: What would it matter if he didn't defeat Voldemort? He was to die to him or Voldemort would die to Harry. Harry hadn't paid much attention to his fate since it was delivered to him at the beginning of the summer. But now as he looked toward the future, what if there was no future for him?  
Harry amused himself for the next few days organizing candy, reading his old schoolbooks, and clearing out his room. Dudley stormed around the house with his friends, and Harry often watched them having fistfights with each other in the backyard when his aunt and uncle were out.  
Ron's letter came three long days after Harry's birthday.  
  
Harry- Dumbledore says you can come to the Burrow for the rest of the holidays. Hermione will be here soon. -Ron  
  
Harry pulled a quill out of his inkpot and quickly began writing a short note right underneath Ron's.  
  
Thanks. I'll come tonight. I can't wait to see you. Harry  
  
Pigwidgeon, who had delivered the letter, was now deep in a fight with Hedwig. They were pecking each other ferociously, and Harry had to pull Pig away. He tied the scroll back to Pig's leg, and gave him a shove out the window.  
Harry's nosed sensed that it was dinnertime. An unusually tasty aroma of soup rose to Harry's bedroom as he smiled to himself and realized it would be his last meal this summer. His head happy with this thought, he hopped down the stairs and entered the kitchen, watching Aunt Petunia ladle split pea soup into four tiny bowls. The evening news blared, and Dudley sat at the table tinkering with his new mobile phone. According to Uncle Vernon it was the best phone money could buy, complete with a camera and a color screen. Harry thought it was useless, seeing how it was about the size of Dudley's fat forefinger.  
"Phone away now, Duddums," Aunt Petunia cooed, putting a tiny bowl of soup in front of him.  
Dudley looked at the soup in despair. "Mum, a little more, please?" he grunted.  
Uncle Vernon looked equally depressed. "Petunia, I sell drills that are bigger than this. Dudley's a growing boy, and I am a hungry man! I could drink this in one sip."  
Aunt Petunia shook her head. "Well, I'm sorry, but that's all I made."  
"Well, we'll take the boy's then," Vernon reasoned. Dudley's face lighted with glee.  
"What?" cried Harry. "That's not-"  
But he was interrupted by the TV. "This just in. Another five people have just been reported missing. Five people were seen entering an elevator in a London skyscraper. However, they were never seen stepping off. The incident is most likely linked to the twelve other mysterious disappearances that have happened this past week. The Scotland Yard has stepped into the matter, and is researching every scene of disappearance. The Yard advises everyone to make sure that they never travel alone, and always look for a second exit in every place they enter," the blonde anchorwoman said.  
Uncle Vernon slammed his fist down on the table and everyone's soup dripped over the side of the bowls. "I will not have this! Crazy disappearances... so they're saying that to avoid danger we should travel in pairs? Well that didn't work for the five people on the elevator! Probably something of your kind, Potter..."  
It was silent for a few more moments as Uncle Vernon finished venting his rage. Harry quickly finished his soup before Uncle Vernon's fist caused all of it to leak over the side. "I'm leaving now," Harry said as he carried an empty bowl up to the sink. "I'll be back next summer I guess." There were no goodbyes as Harry ventured upstairs to gather his things and downstairs as he walked out the door.  
He dragged his trunk, broomstick, and Hedwig down past Mrs. Figg's house, and up toward Magnolia Crescent. He sat down on the bench near the park for a moment, catching his breath before he flagged down the Knight Bus. As he looked into the bushes he realized that three years earlier, at this very spot, he had his first encounter with the only family member (besides the Dursley's) he'd ever really known. Here he had seen Sirius for the first time, and he'd thought he was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. It was ironic how he'd turned out to be just the opposite. But Harry supposed the pain his death had caused him had been the worst thing that had ever happened to him.  
He was sick of thinking about Sirius. He was gone forever, and Harry's basking in his absence wouldn't bring him back to life. Determinedly, Harry stood up and waved his hands. He quickly stepped back on to the curb, and within seconds he found the violently violet Knight Bus flying down the street.  
"'Arry!" shouted the pimply faced Stan Shunpike as the bus doors opened. "Long time no see. Read 'boutcha in da paper of course. Caught 'bout ten of You-Know-'Oohs followers!" Stan lifted Harry's things and tossed them in the bus. Harry handed him eleven sickles and jumped into the bus behind Stan.  
"Look, Ern!" Stan shouted to the driver, Ernie. "It's 'Arry, 'Arry Potter!" Harry quickly walked to the back of the bus and took a seat on a big green armchair. The last thing he wanted was a survey of last month's events from Stan. He looked out the window as the bus flew forward. He couldn't see a thing outside except for a blur of colors and sounds. He gripped the sides of the armchair as the bus took a hairpin turn. The chair tipped slightly but quickly became upright as the bus finished its turn.  
The bus finally reached the Burrow; just as well considering Harry's stomach was now on end. He made his way to the front of the bus and gathered his things. "Bye Stan, bye Ernie," he called as he jumped out of the bus. The doors closed and the bus flew off.  
Harry turned and looked toward the Burrow. It was old, tall, and crooked; Harry thought it looked somewhat like a worn top hat. Still, it was his favorite house in the entire world.  
  
_A/N: I hope you like my story so far! This chapter was kind of like an introduction... It's slow, I know, but I have a lot of stuff planned to start happening too. Some romance will start soon, too, for those who are interested in that, and some general mystery is coming and of course, Quidditch. A lot of things are going on in Harry's sixth year; and next chapter will start introducing some new events! PLEASE read and review! I really appreciate it, even if it's just a short: I like it, or I hate it. If you've written some fan fiction, please tell me your story in the review board, and I promise I'll check it out, because I LOVE reading fan fiction. Thanks guys, and see you in Chapter 2, when Harry returns to Grimmauld Place! _


	2. New Lessons

Harry walked up the beaten path towards the house. As soon as he opened the door, a welcoming Mrs. Weasley greeted him. "Harry, dear!" she exclaimed as she looked up from a pot over the stove. She quickly embraced him. "How are you?" before he could answer she went on. "We've missed you so much dear, but Professor Dumbledore insisted that we kept you at your aunt and uncle's until August. I suppose you want to see Ron... I believe he's down at that joke shop... Harry, I don't know whether to thank you or shame you for that generous donation you gave the twins. I mean, all they do now is canoodle around, making some kind of useless rubbish, but at least they're doing something... with three NEWTs there's little one- or two, I suppose- can do."  
Harry didn't know what to say to this, and he was about to open his mouth when Mrs. Weasley grabbed him by the shoulders and steered him by the fireplace. She picked up the nearby clay pot of Floo Powder. "Here," she said, taking a handful and dropping it in Harry's palm. "Say nice and clearly, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Diagon Alley. You'll arrive in the backroom, be sure to go through the red door." Harry nodded. "Don't stay out too late," she added, and gently pushed him into the fireplace.  
"Bye," he said, then, "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Diagon Alley," he tossed the powder to the ground and was off. After a moment, he stumbled out of an old stone fireplace and knocked something over. He looked down and realized it was a lantern, and glass shards were now scattered across the dusty floor around him. As he looked around, he noticed the room was old, dark, and dusty, and sacks identical to the one Harry had received his presents in were stocked around the room, flooding with products. Crates lined shelves above the sacks.  
The doorknob of a door to Harry's far left turned, and out of it came Fred Weasley. "What the hell..." he whispered. He looked up and saw Harry standing there. "Harry! There you are!"  
"Hi," Harry gasped, "Sorry, I knocked over the lantern." Fred didn't seem to hear this and pulled him through the red door.  
An exploding purple paint similar to the color of the Knight Bus flooded the room, and the floor was sparkling red linoleum. Harry was impressed as he saw hundreds of items lining the store, he had no idea the twins had invented so many things.  
"Look who I found!" boomed Fred, as he turned toward a bright counter, in which George and Ron were working behind. Both looked up, and their faces immediately brightened.  
"Harry!" they both said, grinning in unison. They came up and patted him on the back.  
"Let's show him around the shop!" Fred boomed again, and the three Weasley's steered him towards a shelf in the corner. A big yellow poster read, "Have a meeting, lesson, or appointment today? Less than excited about attending? The Weasley twins are at your service! Introducing the original Weasley Wizarding Wheezes!" Underneath the poster were boxes Harry recognized from last term.  
"We've perfected these," George boasted. "Top sellers... sure to be hits when the Hogwarts shoppers come in a week or two. Moving on..." Rectangular boxes with pictures of wands on them were stacked on the next area of shelves. "These are the fake wands we made in fourth year... now available in bugs, strange goo, mice, and garden snake!"  
"These over here," Fred continued, motioning to big boxes adjacent to the wands, "are InvisiGoo. You simply make the goo in a cauldron and pour it out over an area on the floor. It turns invisible, and whoever walks over it sticks to the floor!"  
They went on like that for an hour. It was amusing at first, but Harry desperately wanted to talk to Ron. Finally, Fred and George began to wrap it up. "Well, Harry, we've got to start opening now. We open usually at ten o'clock, but on Mondays, we open at noon," said George in a very businesslike tone.  
"What do you think we do all day, give tours?" boomed Fred. Harry gave a slight smile. George switched the little sign on the back of the door window to "Open." He and Fred then stood behind the counter, waiting patiently. Ron rolled his eyes.  
"Look," he said, a little impatiently, "Can I go now?"  
"Certainly, my fair little bro... actually we would prefer it if you did!" George said as he counted the galleons in a small violet sack.  
"Can I have my galleons, then?" Ron said hopefully. Without looking up, George dropped three golden galleons on top of the counter. "Thanks," Ron said briskly, then motioned for Harry to follow him out of the door.  
Harry was relieved to be outside again, in the warm summer air, in the streets of Diagon Alley. Few wizards were roaming the streets; Ron assured him in a few hours there would be a sea of people running in and out of shops. Harry and Ron quickly got a table at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Ron and Harry found themselves talking away; Harry found he had much to tell Ron, despite his most uneventful summer.  
"How many OWLs did you get?" Ron asked anxiously.  
Harry's heart sunk. The last thing he wanted to admit was that he only got six OWLs. "Six- ones in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, and Potions- but I didn't qualify for NEWT Potions, I only scraped an acceptable there... How'd you do?"  
"Pretty much the same... except I got History of Magic and Astronomy, too," Ron said, trying his best not to sound boastful.  
"Well done mate! Did you make NEWT Potions?" Harry desperately wanted him to say no, that he didn't, and they could both laugh and talk about how they didn't want to face Snape again, anyway.  
Ron went a light shade of pink and nodded. Harry tried to conceal his disappointment. "Wow! Excellent!" Ron nodded and looked off. '  
"So Ron's got a new girlfriend..." Ron said, desperate to change the subject. "She's simply terrible. Came here this summer to meet Mum and Dad, and simply refused to sleep on a camp bed. 'It will hurt my delicate figure...' "he moaned in a mock-girl voice, rolling his eyes. "So I was forced to sleep on a camp bed in Percy's room. Barrel of laughs that was. Then Penelope- that's his girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, you've met her at school- decides she doesn't like my room because she 'doesn't like Quidditch!' And the color is too bright, it causes her to wake up in the morning! So then, she starts cleaning my room! That's when we started having a bit of a row... I actually think she had Percy make a good match, they're both so bloody anal and mad." This made Harry laugh.  
"So what's been going on with the Order?" Harry asked.  
"Oh, they're busy, you know, they have meetings once a week. Percy and Penelope have joined, and so have Fred and George, except no one trusts them to do any particular job yet, of course. The Diggorys have joined, too, and so have the Fawcetts- they're my neighbors. Loony Lovegood's dad has joined too, and he's just as barking mad, always suggesting You-Know- Who is being attacked by some strange animal and saying he's breeding fire crabs underground in Turkey. But they can't really turn him down, now, can they? Anyway, they reckon You-Know-Who is trying to get more Death Eaters... he's disappeared again. There's another meeting on Wednesday, so you'll get to see everyone again."  
After Harry and Ron finished enormous sundaes, they walked over to Quality Quidditch Supplies to do a bit of shopping. Ron, who still had the majority of his three galleons left, was looking at a tiny device you clipped to the stick of your broom to monitor your speed. If you pressed a tiny gold button, it monitored your height in the air, and, by pressing the same button again, you could check the time. Harry browsed the shop, looking at broomsticks. His own broom model, the Firebolt, was still the best model, however a new Nimbus 3000 rivaled it. As he walked towards Quidditch gloves, a large display caught his eye. A large glass case was hoisted against the wall, holding many different types of Quidditch balls. His eyes quickly fell above the Golden Snitch, and he read the plaque that was right underneath it.  
Premium Golden Snitch. A snitch, made with bronze and real  
gold, fastened with wings made  
from Phoenix feathers to ensure only the best durability.  
Guaranteed to last ten years with-  
out any sign of aging. Monogramming available for four galleons.  
Price: Twelve galleons.  
Harry realized this was the same snitch he had received from Hermione, and he couldn't help but gape in amazement at her generosity. He turned back to the gloves, his pair from Hogwarts were old and worn, Harry found them hard to move in as they were most likely fifty years old. He immediately realized however, that it was likely that his father used them, and at this thought he completely forgot about new gloves and turned to see Ron spending the rest of his money on the broom device he'd been eyeing.  
As they walked out of the store Harry asked Ron when he'd be inviting Hermione. Ron grew slightly red from embarrassment as he mumbled, "I already have. She'll be here tomorrow."  
"Ahh," said Harry, grinning slightly. It was a bit obvious Ron had feelings for Hermione, and he was a bit sure she had feelings for him. He wondered how he would feel if they became more than friends and whether or not he would begin to feel left out. But soon he and Ron were chatting away about Quidditch; Harry had been reading scores from the daily Prophet.  
It was nearly five o'clock when Harry and Ron returned to Fred and George's shop. Sure enough, the store was bustling with young wizards, and the twins didn't even notice Harry and Ron creep back into the storeroom and travel home. When they arrived back at the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley was hard at work tossing a salad.  
The first thing Harry noticed when he and Ron walked into Ron's room was a large, pale orange rectangle on the wall. It took him a moment to realize this discoloration was undoubtedly caused by the absence of Ron's Viktor Krum poster. Together Ron and Harry made up Harry's camp bed, and Ron noted that he thought it would be much easier if he just got a second bed for Harry. "I'm serious," said Ron with wide eyes. "Half the time I'm home, you're here too!"  
As Harry laid on his camp bed paging through one of Ron's Quidditch magazines, Ron, sitting on his own bed, told Harry all about the ceremony they'd have to endure when they returned to Hogwarts.  
"It's some ceremony to celebrate the Head Boy and Girl. It's not a ball, it's a ceremony, but you have to bring a partner. Well, you don't have to, but according to Fred and George, you'll look like an unpopular prat if you don't. And its sixth and seventh years only, and there's a dance afterward- that's why you need the partners. Fred and George said it's livelier than a ball though, not like that stuff we did at the Yule Ball. It's more like a party- with a boring beginning. But now we have to go through asking people again. At least Fleur won't be there, and either will Krum." He said this last part about Krum so softly Harry could barely hear him.  
"Dinner's ready!" Mrs. Weasley called from the bottom of the stairs. Harry and Ron raced downstairs, towards the warm aroma of food. Mrs. Weasley was setting plates of food around the table. Ginny, who Harry was seeing for the first time since his arrival, was reading a copy of Witch Weekly at the head of the table.  
"Hello, Ginny," said Harry, taking a seat next to Ron, who was sitting to Ginny's right.  
"Oh, hello," said Ginny cheerfully. She closed the magazine and gave it to Mrs. Weasley, who stuck it in a magazine rack nearby.  
"Ginny, dear, would you mind sticking your head through the fireplace and telling the boys dinner is ready?" Mrs. Weasley asked, rubbing her hands on her long, knit poncho. She took a seat across from Ron.  
Ginny got up and stuck her head in the fireplace and started to talk to the twins. Mrs. Weasley glanced up as she spooned some salad onto everyone's plates. "Ron, when is Hermione coming?" She asked, moving on to spoon mashed potatoes onto everyone's plates, including the two empty plates to her right.  
"Tomorrow morning," he said, "Around ten. Her parents are driving her in a car." Ginny wiped the soot off of her hands and onto her jeans. Mrs. Weasley gave her a disapproving look, and she opted for her napkin.  
"The boys won't be here for dinner, they have to restock. They said they'll pick something up from the Leaky Cauldron." Mrs. Weasley shook her head and cleared they're plates.  
It was a quiet dinner; Mrs. Weasley inquired Harry about his summer, and his OWL results. They cleared their plates and Ron and Harry went outside to play some Quidditch in the dark. After a while, Fred and George joined them. When they became too tired to go any longer, they made their way inside and went to bed.  
The next morning, Harry and Ron dressed themselves quickly and walked downstairs to find Ginny cooking eggs above the stove. "Where's mum?" Ron asked, rubbing his eyes.  
"Out," she snapped. "At Grimmauld Place. We're going over after Hermione gets here. Which, since you lot slept so late, should be in about five minutes."  
Harry and Ron shrugged and went out the front door and sat on the stoop waiting. Finally, a shiny black car pulled up and Harry spotted Hermoine in the passenger seat, and her father, Mr. Granger, driving. Harry and Ron stood up and walked over to the passenger side of the car. Hermoine smiled at them through the window. Mr. Granger pressed a button and the window rolled down. Ron's jaw dropped in awe. "How- what- how did-"He babbled. Hermoine opened the door and stood up.  
"Hello, Harry, hello Ron," said Mr. Granger.  
"Hello," they both said somewhat shyly. They didn't know Mr. Granger very well, and Harry wondered what he must have thought of letting his only daughter, who lived in a world much unknown to him, stay with two sixteen year-old boys he barely even knew instead of going off on holiday somewhere with he and his wife. Mr. Granger pressed a button and the trunk popped up. It looked very much like Ron's eyes might have popped out of his head. Hermoine hoisted her things out of the trunk.  
Hermoine and her dad said their goodbyes, then Ron grabbed Hermoine's trunk and pulled it inside. "Thanks," she said breathlessly as she began to walk beside Harry. "So, how were your OWLs?"  
Harry groaned. "I got six... Charms, Herbology, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions- but I didn't make NEWT Potions," he added quickly. Hermoine looked genuinely pleased.  
"Excellent Harry! That's all the major subjects... Divination and History of Magic aren't very useful anyway... How about you Ron?"  
"Same thing, but I got History of Magic and Astronomy, too, and I made NEWT Potions," said Ron sheepishly, looking at his feet. Hermoine smiled and gave him a huge hug. Ron looked slightly alarmed but happy all the same.  
"Hello, Ginny," she said after she had let go of Ron.  
"Hi," Ginny said. "Great to see you! We're supposed to head over to Grimmauld Place... Order meeting... even though we're not of age yet, Mum wants everyone to see-"she stopped herself, but Harry was certain she meant to say, "to see Harry." There was an uncomfortable pause. "Well, let's go, then," she continued, smiling, her dimples showing and freckles multiplying. One by one, they stepped into the fireplace, Ginny in the lead, Ron bringing up the rear, and disappeared to Grimmauld Place.  
"Harry!" cried Mrs. Weasley as soon as he fell through to the sooty fireplace. "Go upstairs and go to the last room to your left right away! They're waiting for you!" Deeply confused, Harry ran upstairs just as Mrs. Weasley had told him. He didn't like being in Sirius's house, Sirius's absence was more present then ever as he walked down the hall full of portraits of the Blacks. This house was darker then ever, and Harry felt quite uncomfortable and lost.  
The last door was wide open, and as Harry walked into it, he found Lupin sitting on a chair gripping a hat and tapping his foot impatiently. Moody was sitting on a chair beside him, his eye roving around wildly. McGonagall was pacing the back end of the room, right behind Dumbledore, who was sitting at a desk. "Ahh, Harry," Dumbledore said softly and summoned a chair up facing his desk.  
"Good to see you, Harry," Lupin said, standing up to give Harry a handshake. Moody stood up too.  
"How's your summer been?" he growled.  
"Good," Harry lied, and shook his hand. Harry took the seat in front of Dumbledore. Dumbledore folded his hands and leaned forward. He had a look of concern on his face; Harry instantly thought he had done something wrong.  
"Harry. You certainly remember last spring, when you and I discussed the prophecy?" Harry nodded. The last thing he wanted to talk about was that prophecy. Dumbledore continued. "That prophecy stated that you would have to kill Lord Voldemort for him to die- no one else could kill him. Well, I know you realize this, and I certainly do, but I think no one wants to admit what you have to do. It is time, Harry, to face reality. You must kill Lord Voldemort, or the entire Wizarding World- and perhaps the Muggle one, too- will be torn apart. Lord Voldemort will live forever, and keep coming to power. It is up to you, Harry to save us." He looked very sorry. Harry hadn't really realized it until now that if he didn't kill Voldemort, the entire world would be in peril.  
"I know this is a great responsibility, Harry. But already you are a powerful wizard. I have full faith that you can defeat Voldemort. However, you certainly won't have learned- even by your graduation of Hogwarts- how to defeat the world's darkest wizard. You will need training, and the teaching of spells I don't normally allow to be taught at my school. You do Defense Against the Dark Arts, yes, but that won't help you entirely. You need to learn how to do the Dark Arts. This is also another great responsibility. I certainly trust you, Harry, to use these spells for the good of mankind. Other people will not, however, so it is best to keep these lessons to yourself.  
"Professor Moody," he motioned toward Moody, "will be returning to Hogwarts to teach you Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry, on Mondays you will report to him to learn Dark Arts at nine o'clock. On Tuesdays you will visit me, to practice Occlumency-"Harry let out a groan. "Yes, Harry," Dumbledore reasoned. "It is essential that you resume this lesson. On Wednesdays, you will visit Professor Lupin, who will be staying at the castle, but not teaching, to learn more advanced Defense. Now, I notice that you didn't make NEWT Potions. Professor McGonagall has informed me that last April she promised she would coach you nightly to see that you achieve the demanding results of becoming an Auror. I for one think you would make an excellent Auror. So on Thursdays, you will report to Professor McGonagall to take Auror training. On Fridays, you will report to Professor Moody again, then on Saturdays to Professor Lupin, and on Sundays to myself. Professor McGonagall will schedule her meetings around your Saturday schedule."  
Harry was rather taken aback. "What about Quidditch? And homework? And Hogsmeade?" His new schedule would deprive him of all the going-ons and fun things that made Hogwarts Harry's place in the world. But surely Dumbledore would cancel meetings that interfered with those things, he thought. He thought wrong.  
"You will need to some how squeeze these things in. Harry, you must understand that these lessons are much more important than making sure you ace a Charms exam, or playing Quidditch," Dumbledore said sternly. McGonagall nodded. "Now, what we have discussed must not leave this room. The staff and students do not even know Lupin has returned to Hogwarts, nor do anyone in the Order. It is very important that you do not tell anyone whatsoever- nobody must know. It also would help if you used your Invisibility Cloak when traveling to and from these lessons. Do you understand?"  
Harry nodded gloomily. They wrapped up the rest of their meeting and headed downstairs. Soon after that, the entire Order all entered an upstairs bedroom. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermoine went upstairs to and adjacent bedroom and tried to hear through the wall. "It's no good," Ron said, irritated, after several minutes of absolutely no success. "Dumbledore must have soundproofed it or something..."  
He took a seat on one of the beds next to Hermoine, who was busily writing away on a pad of paper. "What're you doing?" he asked leaning in to catch a glimpse. Hermoine quickly pulled away and muttered, "Nothing" but she was too late. Ron looked away in horror.  
"You're still writing to Krum?" he roared.  
Hermoine began to turn very red with anger. "Yeah, I am," she snapped. "Is something wrong with having a pen pal? And no, we are nothing more than that," she added quickly. "I haven't even seen him since last summer." She immediately realized what she said and looked down and looked away from Ron.  
"What?" said Ron. "When did you see him last summer?" The color in his face was draining, and he soon became pale.  
"I meant last summer term, as in the end of our fourth year, at Hogwarts," she said a little too quickly.  
Ron didn't believe her. "You-you went to Bulgaria, didn't you? You took up his offer and came to visit him, didn't you? I'm right, aren't I?" Hermoine looked at the ground. Ron's jaw dropped, and he looked paler than ever. He stood up, horrified, and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.  
Hermoine rolled her eyes. "The only reason he doesn't like Krum is because he fancies me! I mean, Krum fancies me..." she added quickly.  
"Oh Hermoine," said Ginny, sitting on a bed opposite her. "You know he just likes you. Isn't it obvious? You should hear the way he talks about you... And then, when I mention it, he... well, he acts strangely, and says no very suspiciously... just let it be. Anyway, I never knew you went to visit Viktor Krum."  
"Oh, it was nothing," she snapped. "I was just there for a day or two, and nothing happened. Besides, I don't even fancy Krum. I just enjoy talking to him. His life is so fascinating. He might want to be more than a pen pal, but I don't. Our relationship is strictly platonic."  
Harry went down to visit Ron, who was sitting at the kitchen table with white knuckles. "I can't believe her," he roared. "He- he- he knows Dark Arts! He's three years older than her..."  
"Really, mate, they're just friends..." Harry tried to reason. Ron wouldn't listen.  
Later that day, after having short greetings with the rest of the Order, Harry, Hermoine, and the Weasleys returned to the Burrow. Harry felt his month at the Burrow went very quickly. Many days, Harry, Ron, and Hermoine headed off to the twins' shop. Other days, Ron and Harry played Quidditch, and made up games to play on their brooms. Harry received his Hogwarts letter a week before he was to go to Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley, who seemed desperate for something to do with only two of her children spending their holidays at home, insisted on going to Diagon Alley to purchase their things. Harry, who had had a good second half of his summer, had mixed feelings about returning to Hogwarts, especially considering the boatload of extra lessons he'd need to take each day, but he missed Quidditch, and was greatly excited to return to the pitch, especially after he received this letter the day before going to Hogwarts:  
  
Dear Harry, When Professor McGonagall told me I'd need to pick a team captain, I immediately thought of you. Being one of the best Quidditch players Hogwarts has ever had, it didn't seem an option not to pick you. Even after your little rendezvous last year involving your suspension from the team- and essentially from ever flying on a broom again- you still have good leadership skills. I just hope you can hold your temper.  
As the new captain, I can't exactly tell you what to do. However, I highly suggest you take back your position as seeker, and put Ginny Weasley in my position as Chaser. The two replacement beaters are fair, however, when you are getting another new Chaser, I would have the beaters tryout for this, just to see how they do as Chasers, and I would have all those trying out for Chaser hit the bludger around, just to see how they do as beaters.  
McGonagall will forward all information to you, and you'll have a meeting with her once you get back to school. I know you can do this, Harry. Yours, Angelina Johnson  
  
A/N: It's going slow, I know. But I'm trying to speed it up. My least favorite parts of the books were always Harry's summer holidays. Its so hard to find things for Harry to do in his two months to make for an exciting story. It's a lot harder than I thought to write fan fiction! Next chapter will be the trip to Hogwarts on the Hogwarts Express, which I have some surprises in store. Also, I know I'm spelling Hermione's name wrong, but my computer keeps switching it to Hermoine. Please ignore this spelling! I haven't figured out how to get it off AutoCorrect. 


End file.
